The Play's The Thing
by FanOfAll2017
Summary: While on a family trip, Maxwell and Fran find themselves somewhat distracted while alone at a play. Follows 'Release'


"Clive, I have to thank you. This trip was brilliant idea," CC told the writer sitting at her side.

The playwright laughed. "Well, I tend to find that you get a better idea of who a person is when you see them outside of the confines of a business meeting," he said. He nudged Maxwell, who was sitting on the other side of him. "I'm glad that you and your family were all able to make it," he added. "I can't wait for you to see the play tomorrow night," he added.

"Well, I'm certainly looking forward to it," Maxwell said, smiling as well. His smile got wider as he noticed Fran walking out towards the pool, hand in hand with Grace.

"You have exquisite taste in eye candy," Clive said, looking over and seeing Fran. "I noticed her when she walked through the dining room this morning. I never did get to speak with her," he added.

"Lucky you," CC muttered.

"That's my children's nanny," Maxwell said, feeling himself tense up as he noticed that the intensity of Clive's attention increased as Fran bent forward to apply some lotion to her own legs, giving them a direct view of her cleavage down the front of her bikini top.

"Really? She works for you? Do you know, I'd love an introduction," Clive said.

"She is working at the moment," Maxwell began, trying to buy time.

"That would be a first," CC added, speaking under her breath again.

"I must insist," Clive said, rising from his seat. "After all, it won't take much of her time."

Maxwell led Clive to the side of the pool, where Fran was sitting on a chair, watching Grace in the water. "Miss Fine, where are my other two children?" he greeted her.

"Maggie is over there, with some kids she met," Fran said, waving a hand at a group of teenagers. "Brighton is in playing video games at the arcade."

"Hi Daddy. Are you coming for a swim?" Grace called out to her father.

Maxwell turned to his youngest daughter. "Maybe a bit later on," he said. He turned back to Fran. "Miss Fine, I'd like you to meet Clive Hanley."

Fran rose from her seat and held out a hand to Clive. "Mr Hanley, it's a real pleasure to meet such a highly respected talent," she said as she shook his hand.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you too. I can't believe that Maxwell has someone like you working for him," Clive said, looking Fran up and down. "And, please call me Clive."

Fran pulled her hand from Clive's. It was so unnaturally soft, like it was overly moisturised. It wasn't often she felt that she should cover herself up, but his attention was a little too focused on her body. She looked at Maxwell, wondering if he was going to intervene at some point as he usually would. "Mr Sheffield, are you joining the family for dinner tonight?" she asked him.

"Yes, of course," Maxwell answered. "Once we finish up with our meeting I'll join you all for an early meal. Come along Clive, we should leave Miss Fine to her work."

"Miss Fine, would you like to join me for a pre-play drink?" Clive asked her abruptly.

"Oh, thank you, that's so flattering, but I wasn't planning on attending the play," Fran told him. She eyed Maxwell. He hadn't invited her to join them, and she wasn't going to be begging him for an invite either. He had been on edge lately since CC had presented him with the idea of coming to meet with Clive at the same time that Andrew Lloyd Webber would be.

"Really, then I must insist you join us," Clive said. "Besides, I would love an opportunity to get to know you better," he added, again running his eyes over Fran's body. "I'll see you later on," he added as he turned and headed back to where CC was still sitting at the table.

"Well, I suppose my night's set," Fran said, rolling her eyes.

"Miss Fine, what's wrong?" Maxwell asked her.

Fran stepped a little closer to Maxwell. "That's the writer that you're trying to impress?" she asked him.

"His work is supposed to be cutting edge. Even Andrew Lloyd Webber is coming tonight, just to see Clive's current work," Maxwell whispered. "You didn't like him?"

"Let's just say I don't like being ogled so obviously," Fran pointed out.

"He wasn't exactly subtle," Maxwell agreed. He glanced down at her cleavage and bit the inside of his lip to stop from offering to rub some lotion into the curves of her body. "I should go back to Clive and CC," he added abruptly before turning away from her before she could say anything else to him.

Fran tossed clothes from her suitcase, pulling a dress from the bottom and holding it out in front of herself. It wasn't a formal one, but she figured it would be okay to wear it. She stood up and placed it on the bed just as she heard someone knock on the room door. "Come in," she called out, thinking it was either Maggie or Grace, who were sharing the room with her.

"Miss Fine, we really do need to get going," Maxwell said, stepping into the room. He took in the sight of her, wrapped in a thick towel. Her hair was already in place and it looked as if she had already applied her makeup.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready," Fran assured him, taking a bra and underwear from the pile of discarded clothes. She paused and looked at Maxwell. "Usually, this would be the time that I ask you to turn around or leave, but given you've seen it all before I suppose we can dispense with that side of things," she started, reaching for the knot of her towel.

"Miss Fine," Maxwell reprimanded her, as he turned a little so that he wasn't staring directly at her. _I won't give in_ , he thought. He glanced to one side and realised that he had a perfect view of her changing into her clothes. Then he shifted his eyes, realising that he was going to end up getting himself caught.

Fran laughed as she quickly slipped on her clothes and walked over, tapping him on the shoulder. "You can stop pretending that you weren't watching me in the mirror," she teased him as she brushed past him to the table where she had set up her makeup supplies. She picked up a tube of lipstick and reapplied it to her lips and then smiled at him.

"I was not watching you get changed," Maxwell insisted.

Fran raised her eyebrow at him and waited.

"Okay, fine, I might have looked," Maxwell admitted. "As you said, it isn't like it's the first time that you've bared yourself to me."

Fran paused in collecting her purse as she felt him come closer to her and place an arm on her shoulder and turn her into him. She felt his lips caress hers as he brought her body in closer to his. As she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, she felt her knees weaken and she gripped his shoulders tighter, bringing one of her legs up on to his hip. "Wow," she whispered as they broke apart. "Just think what would happen if you had told me you loved me," Fran added as she brought her leg back down and stood in front of him.

"I just wanted to show you that I noticed you today at the pool, and I liked what I saw," Maxwell told her, rubbing his hand over her hip in a possessive manner.

"I can tell that. So, does that mean I'm not having drinks with a certain writer tonight?" Fran asked him.

Maxwell dropped his hand and smiled tightly. "Yes," he said grudgingly. "But I'm going to be there as well, as will CC" he said.

"Fran!" Maggie called out as she walked into the main part of the suite, just outside of the bedroom where Fran and Maxwell were standing.

"In here," Fran called out.

Maggie walked into the room, pausing to look at her father who was sitting on one of the armchairs at the side of the room to where Fran was putting things into her small handbag. "What's happening?"

"Your father was just giving me his usual lecture about behaving myself tonight in front of this writer and Andrew Lloyd Webber," Fran said, smiling at the other young woman.

"I think we've covered everything," Maxwell said, rising from the seat. "Miss Fine, I'll see you at the bar. Maggie, I hope I won't be seeing you there," he added, with a raised eyebrow at his eldest daughter.

Maggie laughed. "Don't worry Dad. Grace and I are going shopping on the boardwalk with Brighton and then we'll have an early night," she told him, wondering if she had interrupted something between her father and her nanny.

"Excellent, sounds like fun," Maxwell said, offering his daughter some cash before he left the room.

"Fran, is everything okay?" Maggie asked her nanny once she was sure that Maxwell had left the suite.

"Of course sweetie, why would you ask such a thing?" Fran asked.

"Well, it's just that Dad doesn't usually let you within ten feet of a celebrity, and now he wants you in the same room as Andrew Lloyd Webber. Isn't he afraid you might embarrass him?" Maggie reminded Fran.

"Well, he probably figures since he passed on _Cats_ that there's nothing else I can do that will humiliate him in front of Mr Lloyd Webber," Fran offered.

"Grace told me that you're going out on a date with the writer," Maggie added as Fran was headed out the room.

Fran paused at the door. "I'm joining him and your father and Miss Babcock for drinks. I'd hardly call that a date. I'll probably get back here before you guys do tonight," she said. "Have fun tonight sweetie," she added to Maggie before she left the room to head down to the bar.

"You know, Maxwell, once your nanny get here, I'd like you to, I don't know, maybe make yourself scarce so that I could get to know her better," Clive said as he stood with Maxwell at the bar.

Maxwell tried to suppress his natural response to yell 'no'. "If that's what she wants, I can't see why that would be a problem," he said, trying to keep his tone even.

"Who cares what she wants?" Clive said, nudging Maxwell with an elbow. "Is she seeing anyone?"

Maxwell stepped aside so that he was just out of nudging reach. "I couldn't say," he said.

"Is who seeing anyone?" CC asked, joining them, dressed in a wrap dress that was tight enough to show her curves.

"Miss Fine, you know, Max's nanny," Clive said as he looked her up and down briefly.

"Oh, she's single," CC responded automatically. She stepped to Maxwell's ear. "We need this deal," she reminded him in a whisper. "I mean, she hasn't been out with anyone in the last couple of months so she's ripe for the picking.

"Does she have a type?" Clive asked CC.

"If I had to guess, I suppose 'man' would be her type," CC said, kicking her heel against Maxwell's to encourage him to laugh as well.

"Well, then, there's no problem," Clive said. He took Maxwell by the arm and pulled him aside, away from CC. "Now, tell me the truth, what do you think my chances are with her?" he asked.

"With CC?" Maxwell offered, still trying to buy time.

"No, with your nanny. I mean, the way that she dresses tells me that she's possibly open to many things," he added, nodding to where Fran had just entered the bar. "I feel like we could have a real connection, you know?"

"Look, Clive, I don't think that you're really her type, despite what CC says," Maxwell said as Fran approached them and smiled at him.

"Really, because she is definitely mine," Clive said, stepping forward to take Fran's hand in his own. "Miss Fine, Fran, don't you look amazing. That dress is the perfect blend of elegant and playful," he said, looking her up and down. "You must come and watch the play? Please, it would make me so very happy," he added.

"Thank you, I suppose I can do that," Fran said, smiling tightly at the compliment.

"I can't wait to hear what you think about it. Maybe, after it's all over, you can meet me in my room for a drink and give me your opinion," Clive offered. "I'd offer to sit with you while you were watching it but I have to be backstage the whole time. After though, I could give you my full attention."

"Sorry, but I don't think that's appropriate," Fran said, still smiling. "I'd get in too late and run the risk of waking my roommates," she added. "I'm sharing with Maxwell's two daughters."

"All his money and he can't spring for you to have a room of your own?" Clive said, looking at Maxwell. "Maybe he isn't the producer I need to be talking to."

Maxwell bit his inner lip to keep from snapping and saying something he would regret. "Well, it was last minute. This was the only the suite available with three bedrooms," he said. "The only one who got their own room is CC," he added.

Fran smirked, wishing that Niles was there with them to say something about that. "From what I hear Mr Lloyd Webber got his rooms just before we did," she told Clive.

"Yes. Andrew's been so supportive. He's already made me an offer without seeing the play. I like that kind of raw enthusiasm from a producer," Clive said to her. "Max, on the other hand, can be a little slow," he said, nodding at Maxwell.

"Don't worry, when he sees something he likes, he won't hesitate to take you up on it," Fran assured the writer, making sure that she was looking Maxwell in the eye. She didn't like the way that Clive was continuing to make snide comments towards Maxwell.

Maxwell returned the smile she was giving him. "Miss Fine, why don't we take our seats?" he asked, holding out a hand to Fran. "I believe the show is going to begin very soon."

Fran grasped it quickly and let Maxwell pull her towards the door to the theatre attached to the bar. "What about Miss Babcock?" she asked him.

"Oh, CC's already occupied," Maxwell said, glancing behind them and nodding.

Fran turned and saw CC flirting heavily with one of the bar tenders. "So, she won't be sitting with us?" she asked him.

"Not if she can't find us," Maxwell stated, pulling Fran towards a small, corner booth at the back of the theatre. He placed their drinks on the table in front of them and sat down next to Fran. _Damn, she smells amazing,_ was his first thought as she moved a little closer to him. He glanced down at her face, which was looking up at him.

"Sorry, I'm at an odd angle to see the stage," Fran explained, shifting in her seat again so that she was facing the stage properly.

"No problem," Maxwell assured her as she placed a hand on his upper thigh as the house lights dimmed and they were in almost complete darkness. _Of course, I'm not going to have much chance to pay attention to this play if she keeps her hand there,_ he thought. "His intentions towards you aren't honourable. You need to be very careful around him. He wants nothing more than to take you to his bed and satisfy himself," he added.

"Whose intentions? Clive's? I already knew that from the moment he looked at me," Fran said in a low whisper. Maxwell's hand rested on her knee, just beneath where her skirt ended. "It's your intentions that I probably should be more worried about, sitting here alone with you in the dark and all," she added.

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman," Maxwell assured her, turning his attention towards the stage as the play began.

Fran shifted in her seat. She was bored watching this play. _More than that, it's making me really making me angry_ , she thought. The only reason she didn't get up and leave her seat was the way that Maxwell's fingers were currently caressing her knee, occasionally daring to drift up her skirt for a few seconds to skim the top of her bare thighs before returning to her knee. She turned her head slightly and suddenly had Maxwell's mouth against her neck. _So much for being a perfect gentleman_ , she thought as she felt him lightly kissing her collarbone. "You're not overly interested in producing anything by this guy, right?" she asked him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maxwell paused in his attack on her neck. "Hell no. Webber is free to have this one all to himself," he said. "Hanley has nothing original to say," he added.

"And he's a sleaze," Fran said.

"Well, the fact that he was blatantly hitting on you is another reason not to work with him. I don't think I want him anywhere near you at the house," Maxwell said, keeping his voice low. "I noticed that you aren't responding to his advances," he added.

"Well, that's because there's this guy I am interested in, who is currently trying to do some very un-gentlemanly things to me," she whispered back, turning her head even more and kissing him deeply.

Maxwell was the first to break from their kiss. "Fran," he admonished her, but not stopping his fingers from sliding up her skirt again, this time resting on her inner thighs and running the tips of his fingers against them. She opened her legs slightly more and he was suddenly grateful that she wasn't wearing a tight skirt that would restrict her movements. _And that's something I never thought I'd be happy about_ , he thought.

"What? I don't think that anyone can see us," Fran told him, running her hand up his thigh, resting her hand against his groin.

"That's not the point," Maxwell said, his fingers closing in on her heat, and kissing her again to silence the moan he knew was coming as he rubbed a single digit against the outside of her underwear, feeling the fabric become more and more moist under his touch. "We should not be doing this _here_ ," he added, breaking the kiss and moving to shift his hand out from under her skirt.

Fran didn't move hers from where it was. She began to slowly move it back and forth, rubbing his growing erection through his pants. Then she stopped and smiled at him. "Of course, you're right," she said, pulling her hand from him. She turned her face back to the stage and pretended that the play was suddenly very interesting.

Maxwell looked at her, giving her a look of disappointment. Then he glanced around the darkened audience. Everyone was looking at the stage. No one was looking at them. _There's no reason to think that we'll be caught,_ he thought as he leant in, turned her face back to his and kissed her deeply again. "We'd have to keep very, very quiet," he added, breaking the kiss again. She let him turn her slightly so that she was sitting side by side with him, her legs parting once more. "Do you think that you can manage that?" he added, slipping his hand back under her skirt and running his fingers against the outside of her underwear again, keeping his movements slow and deliberate, just how he knew she liked it to start with from watching her. He grinned at the thought of doing such a taboo thing, in this place, with a crass writer who was hot for this woman. The same one who had returned her attention to his groin with enthusiasm.

Fran shifted in her seat, knowing that she was going to have to be careful to control her response. "That feels amazing," she whispered as she felt him slide one finger inside of her underwear and start to rub her clit with increasing pressure, slipping against her slick skin. She smiled, wickedly and pulled down his pants zipper slowly so as to not make much noise, and reached into his underwear and put her hand onto his hardening penis, stroking it with varying grip and pressure. Like him, she remembered the movements he liked the best.

"Fran, don't stop, please," he gasped, wondering why she had stopped suddenly and pulled her hand from his pants.

Fran smiled and held it up to show him one of her fingers that was coated with his pre-cum. She kept her eyes on his as she placed the finger to her lips and licked it twice.

"Fran," Maxwell breathed, momentarily pausing what he was doing to watch her, clearly enjoying the experience. _That's new_ , he thought, thankful as she returned her hand to his groin, her fingers now slightly damp from her saliva. He started increasing his pressure against her clit. From past experience, he knew that she could climax from clitoral stimulation and he knew that she was close, feeling the increase in how slick her opening was getting. He slipped a finger into her vagina and pumped it in a few times, massaging her inner walls. He continued the pressure on her clit, smiling as he felt her writhe in the seat beside him. He swallowed deeply, feeling his own climax building. He glanced around on the table. "We have a problem," he whispered to her as he felt her shuddering against his hand in release. He pulled his hand out from under her skirt, and after a moment of hesitation, making sure to lock eyes with her, he ran one of his fingers across his lips, tasting her juices.

"What's that?" Fran asked him, her body shaking a little from the climax that had rushed up on her. She couldn't for the life of herself think about what he was saying. "Right, problem," she said.

"I'm almost there and I don't really want to finish in the pants of my only suit and I don't want to explain to Niles why I had to either," he whispered.

"Already thought of that," Fran said. Now that he had gotten her to climax, she knew that she could focus on him. "Are you sure that no one can see us?" she asked him.

Maxwell looked at her, and then looked around. No one was watching them. "I'm sure," he whispered, straining to keep the words low. His voice was almost growling again.

"What about the security cameras," Fran asked.

"I don't think there are any in this part of the theatre," Maxwell whispered, wondering why she was focusing on that. He felt her shift in the seat again, and the wonderful pressure that she had been applying to him with her hand went away. Before he could say anything about it, he felt her mouth on his shaft. _Damn,_ Maxwell thought, wondering how he was going to keep quiet as she began to lick him from tip to base and back up again. With one hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, she bent down again, taking him as far into her mouth as she could and then rose up again. Then he looked down at her, and even though her mouth was doing things to his penis, she was looking up at him, knowingly. He held back, waiting a few seconds as the curtain fell and the audience applauded before he released into her mouth, groaning loudly.

When the house lights came on, Fran was sitting next to Maxwell, as if nothing had happened between them. She smiled at CC and Clive who were approaching them, talking about the play.

"Tell me Fran, what did you think of the show?" Clive asked, sliding into the seat next to her.

"Well, Clive, it was like nothing I've ever experienced," Fran responded.

 _Tell me about it,_ Maxwell thought, Fran's hand slipping into his own. "It was a very interesting storyline," he added, not knowing what else he could say about a play that he had lost interest in from the moment it started.

"We should talk about getting your next work onto our stage," CC said. She knew that something had occurred between Nanny Fine and Maxwell but without the Yenta Butler, if they weren't saying anything, she wouldn't find out easily.

"And that's my cue to leave," Fran said, releasing Maxwell's hand. Clive looked disappointed and moved out of the booth so that Fran could slide out from the booth.

"I thought we could go to my room for that drink," Clive offered.

"I don't think we should. I've got an early start tomorrow," Fran said, hesitating to take the hand that Clive was offering her. She finally took it, but dropped it again very quickly before he could reach up and kiss it.

Maxwell rose from his seat. "Miss Fine, I have a few things to go over with you regarding the plan for tomorrow, so I'll walk you to the stairs," he said. "CC, Clive, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes," he added, leading Fran through the main entrance of the theatre. He paused, placing a hand on her back as he pushed her towards an alcove out of view and kissed her deeply.

Fran smiled as she felt him press himself against her while they were kissing. She pulled away from him. "Was that all you wanted to say?" she asked him.

"Well, for starters. Also, to say that what just happened there," he used his thumb to point back in the direction that they had come, "was a game changer in this situation we have here. I look forward to returning the favour," he added, leaning in to kiss her again, knowing that he didn't have much time before either CC or Clive came looking for him to rejoin them.

Fran broke the kiss first and smiled as she walked towards her room, knowing that his eyes were still on her as she walked. _I can't wait,_ she thought as she thought of him, on his knees and using that tongue of his on her, and realising that she was going to need a cool shower before she went to bed to calm herself down. "Until next time," she said as she reached the door of their suite, hearing the television blaring from within.


End file.
